20 Worst Generals Of World War II

By 1939, warfare had experienced dramatic and exponential changes since the end of the First World War. Gone were the days of stationary enemy lines; thanks to technological advancements, World War II ushered in a rapid form of mobile combat never before seen. And grappling with this new-fangled warfare was a generation of military leaders that didn't always get it right.

Indeed, World War II was a completely different mammoth than its predecessor. The global and catastrophic conflict required new and bolder strategies. The rise of tanks and superior aircraft meant armies could cover far greater distances in record time. This meant innovative leadership was needed; generals would need to maintain extended supply lines while committing to swift offensive movements. World War II saw commanders like Dwight D. Eisenhower masterfully balance these categories. However, not all generals could handle this new era of war. Some, while performing well in certain phases of the historic conflict, faltered significantly when pulled out of their element. Others, well, probably should not have been given a position of high command in the first place.

Field Marshal Erwin Rommel and his Afrika Korps are frequently lauded to a near-mythical degree for their military prowess, particularly in North Africa. While Rommel's victories, which earned him the moniker of "the Desert Fox," certainly stunned and shocked his Allied foes, historians like Larry H. Addington (via Military Affairs) concluded after the war that even Rommel's greatest achievements in North Africa didn't amount to much in the grand scheme of Axis strategy. In fact, Addington alluded to Rommel's initial North African triumphs as a marvelous success only in the superficial sense. Even at the height of Rommel's success in North Africa, he and his forces were never in the most optimal position, often reliant on captured British supplies and vehicles. Overall, Rommel never showed a true appreciation for the science of logistics.

In his book, "Field Marshal: The Life and Death of Erwin Rommel," Daniel Allen Butler writes that, during his early career fighting in Belgium and France: "Rommel was also too prone to leave his staff and sometimes even his radio vehicle behind while personally directing the actions of a single company or battalion, making effective coordination of the division's armor, infantry, and artillery problematic at best." 

A commander of Rommel's caliber should have recognized that communication, or lack thereof, can spell doom for any operation. Even Butler, who frequently defends the German commander against accusations targeting his alleged logistical shortcomings, admits that Rommel could needlessly impede his own momentum by keeping his staff in the dark.

Lieutenant General Renya Mutaguchi deserves much more attention from military historians and general World War II buffs, not for his elite-level command but for how incredibly reckless his tactics were.

After securing victory against the British in Singapore in 1942, the Japanese commander Mutaguchi wished to continue his success, this time in India. He believed that if the British could be overcome in Assam — northeastern India — the rest of the subcontinent would soon follow, and even look at his forces as a sort of liberation force from British rule. While Mutaguchi certainly knew how to dream big, he was terrible at planning small. When on the offensive against British opposition in Imphal, he had thousands of his men march great distances while only carrying 20 days' worth of provisions. Mutaguchi believed that if they trekked light, lived off the land, and stole British supplies, speed would be their ultimate ally against the enemy. The Japanese commander also assumed British opposition would immediately crumble at the first sign of pressure and ignored their formidable aircraft capabilities.

These drastic miscalculations proved dire for Japanese forces, who had to contend with invisible foes like starvation and exhaustion before even encountering the enemy. According to Louis Allen's "Burma: The Longest War," in the aftermath of the conflict, Japanese casualties far outweighed those of the British, with the former suffering 54,879 and the latter 12,603. Ultimately, Mutaguchi's leadership proved just as deadly to his men as British bullets. In December 1944, the lieutenant general was called back to Tokyo, relieved of his command, and forced into retirement.

Grigory Ivanovich Kulik's gross arrogance and incompetence were given a historic spotlight when he attempted to lead the initial stages of the Leningrad Front in 1941. Historians agree that his inept command gave way to dire setbacks and serious defeats, and he was swiftly relieved of his command.

Kulik, marshal of the Soviet Union, appears to have been a commander more interested in currying favor with Joseph Stalin than focusing on pragmatic military command and technological innovation. Post-war historians have frequently noted that Kulik spent an absurd amount of energy and time opposing certain mechanized advancements. John Keegan, author of "The Second World War," wrote of the Soviet commander: "[He was a] technological reactionary who opposed the distribution of automatic weapons to soldiers on the grounds that they were incapable of handling them and halted the production of anti-tank and anti-craft guns."

In a period when the Soviet Union would need every advantage they could muster against Nazi Germany, Kulik's actions were detrimental to the Soviet cause. By multiple accounts, he consistently acted as an obstacle against certain technological advancements regarding tanks throughout his military tenure. This is laced with tragic irony, as Soviet armor such as the T-34 proved to be more than capable of giving invading German forces a hellacious time.

[Featured image by Mil.ru via Wikimedia Commons | Cropped and scaled | CC BY-SA 4.0]

The Battle of Okinawa is frequently cited as World War II's bloodiest Pacific engagement, as the Allied victory over the small island led to over 75,000 American casualties. One of the leading commanders who fiercely opposed the Allied landings was Lieutenant General Isamu Chō, a hardline nationalist whose offensive tactics at Okinawa failed drastically.

American forces attacked Okinawa on April 1, 1945. Chō organized the island's defense alongside Colonel Yahara Hiromichi, with the latter preferring a defensive-oriented strategy. However, Chō thought otherwise. Believing the American offensive was vulnerable, the lieutenant general launched a massive attack on May 4 against the American troops against Yahara's warnings. According to Richard Fuller's book, "Shokan: Hirohito's Samurai": "[The offensive was a] complete failure with very losses." By the next day, Chō and his forces were retreating to a different part of the island, but the writing was on the wall. On June 19, knowing the American victory was a certainty, the lieutenant general died by ritual suicide. 

What makes Chō's actions so peculiar is that, upon first arriving in Okinawa in 1944, he and Yahara worked together in setting up fortifications and tunnels that could be relied on in a sort of attrition-type strategy. However, just a little over a month after the battle began, Chō completely shifted gears by sending the majority of his forces in a disastrous charge. In hindsight, this makes sense, as one of the first words Fuller uses to describe the commander's personality is "short-tempered" (via "Shokan: Hirohito's Samurai"). Short-tempered indeed.

In May of 1940, France was not in the greatest position. The German Blitzkrieg had launched its tanks and heavy armor through the Ardennes Forest and were closing in on Paris. To shore up the defenses of a quickly deteriorating situation, the French government brought in World War I veteran and military commander Maxime Weygand. Unfortunately for the Allies, this turned out to be oil on an already raging inferno.

As if the situation in France wasn't bad enough, with Hitler's forces rapidly nearing the capital, Weygand managed to find ways to make everything worse. On the morning of May 19, the French command ordered troops fighting in Belgium to come down to meet the attacking Germans. That evening, Weygand was given command, and one of the first things he did was to cancel that counterattack. After conferring with other Allied commanders for three days, Weygand committed to the same exact plan that was made before. This gave German infantry a tremendous opportunity to catch up with its rapidly moving heavy armor and close any gaps in its offensive.

Paris fell on June 14, 1940 and an official armistice was signed with Germany on June 22. In July 1939, Weygand had declared, "The French army is stronger than ever before in its history; its equipment is the best, its fortifications are first-rate; its morale excellent, and it has an outstanding High Command. Nobody wants war but if we are forced to win a new victory then we will win it" (per "Blitzkrieg: Myth, Reality, and Hitler's Lightning War: France 1940").

In February 1942, the Japanese military scored a massive victory in the Malay peninsula when they defeated Commonwealth troops stationed in Singapore, capturing the city and delivering a tremendous blow to the Allied Pacific war effort in the process. Despite boasting a significant numerical advantage (85,000 men) against the Japanese offensive (35,000), British forces were overwhelmed and surrendered within days. At the helm of this historic defeat was Lieutenant-General Arthur Ernest Percival.

As Japan continued to expand its reach during the onset of the war, there was a contemporary belief in Great Britain that Singapore was an impregnable stronghold. However, this conviction was severely misplaced. For starters, Singapore had long gone without proper defense funding. And, while equipped with more troops, the British forces were not nearly as experienced as their enemy, nor had as many tanks and superior aircraft. While Percival demanded more resources be brought to Singapore before the Japanese attack, and showed the tactical acumen that the British standing in Singapore was not as secure as initially believed, the Lieutenant-General's overall leadership proved to do more harm than good.

Under Percival's leadership, bitter relationships between subordinate commanders ran rampant, leading to poor communication between the Commonwealth's multi-ethnic army. Furthermore, the Lieutenant-General also placed his soldiers throughout the entire Malayan Peninsula. This decision nullified Percival's main advantage — number superiority — as it allowed Japanese troops to outnumber their enemy at various landing zones. This error was replicated again when Japanese forces reached Singapore Island itself. The disastrous defeat at Singapore led to terrible Allied casualties and thousands of Commonwealth soldiers being taken as prisoners, with many not surviving Japanese captivity.

When you combine horrific brutality with simple ineptness in tactics and strategy, one ends up with a general like Rodolfo Graziani. The Italian commander's name forever lives in infamy for the many atrocities he committed against civilians in Libya and Ethiopia. But when engaging other standing armies, Graziani never appeared to show the same aggression he did against non-combatants.

After his campaigns in Libya and Ethiopia, Graziani battled the British in Egypt, where he would suffer his greatest defeats. An initial and firm believer in embracing mechanized warfare during his time in Ethiopia, Graziani strangely moved away from this belief during his time in Egypt. Indeed, Graziani's entry into the region in September 1940 was a slow one. British troops may have been forced into a much more precarious position if the Italian commander had entered the country a little less cautious. Instead, Graziani's wary approach allowed his enemy to gain some more time to prepare and for Allied resources to flow.

Operation Compass was the final nail in the coffin of the Italian general's military career. A British armored offensive, planned by Sir Richard O'Conner, struck at Italian positions on December 9, 1940. (Famously, Graziani's forces did little to protect a 15-mile gap in its defensive line). Graziani's men were quickly overwhelmed; within days, over 30,000 of his men were routed and taken prisoner. Despite boasting a significant numerical advantage of around 150,000 men, Graziani's command failed against the more mobile and smaller British attack by around 30,000 men.

Lev Mekhlis was a Soviet commander who proved to be more adept at assisting Stalin with purges than he was at carrying out effective military results. In early 1942, the army commissar was sent to Crimea during the German invasion of the Soviet Union.

According to David M. Glantz, author of "When Titans Clashed: How the Red Army Stopped Hitler," Mekhlis was a hostile presence toward his own comrades: "Mekhlis openly bullied commanders and reshuffled personnel." John Erickson, author of "Stalin's War with Germany," also notes Mekhlis' constant need "to worry the life out of every commander by his incessant day-and-night queries." During the Battle of the Kerch Peninsula, Mekhlis' involvement indeed proved to be a boon for the Germans. Mekhlis, aspiring for some great majestic offensive, made strange directives such as banning the digging of trenches. Field Marshal Erich von Manstein, leading the German offensive in Kerch, carved through Soviet resistance and proved to be far too much for Mekhlis. Mekhlis, ever the politician, was quick to try to protect his image and deflect blame to other commanders by writing to Stalin. Instead of obtaining support from his old friend, Mekhils instead received sharp and scathing reminders of his responsibilities.

In the end, the five-month Kerch campaign was a Soviet disaster. In May alone, the Soviets lost an estimated 170,000 troops. Mekhlis' leadership, by all accounts, proved to have been nothing more than a dire detriment. After Crimea, he was swiftly demoted and relieved.

Kliment Voroshilov, an old friend of Stalin, was a military commander whose leadership did little to help the Soviet cause during the Second World War. Despite a terrible outing during the Finnish-Soviet War (1939-1940), Stalin gave his comrade one more chance in July 1941, when he assigned Voroshilov to helm the Leningrad defense. 

While multiple accounts do recognize Voroshilov for displaying immense valor during the fighting around Leningrad, his actual tactics left much to be desired. Frankly, it's difficult to discern what Voroshilov's tactics actually were in the first place. Roy Medvedev, author of "All Stalin's Men," highlights Voroshilov's ineptness by pointing out what little he did to halt German forces from encircling Leningrad. "Voroshilov acted bravely but incompetently. He had plenty of nerve and often drove out to the front line of the defense, squarely in the enemy's view. What he lacked was firmness in his command of the troops. At the end of August Leningrad was virtually surrounded." Voroshilov's incompetence ran far and wide to the point that he failed to notify Stalin of a nearby town (Shlisselburg) getting captured; the Soviet leader discovered this news by reading a German communiqué.

Medvedev's account cites a blundering marine offensive led by Voroshilov the day he was being relieved, a desperate act for a desperate cog in the imperious Soviet system. Overall, Voroshilov's counterattack planning earned him ridicule from his peers. The commander found himself swiftly replaced by the far more talented Georgy Zhukov, who made it a point to ignore any attempt at advice from Voroshilov.

The Battle of Peleliu is possibly one of the most tragic military engagements in World War II history for the reason that it may have been completely unnecessary. While blame can certainly be assigned to the top brass, fault at the tactical level must be given to General William H. Rupertus. Rupertus expressed immense confidence before the offensive against Peleliu started, and believed Japanese forces on the island would be defeated in mere days. However, the campaign lasted over two months. Rupertus, a marine through and through, allowed his pride to blind him and balked at the idea of needing army troops, and did little to quell the bitter rivalry between his joint force.

According to Bill D. Ross, author of "Peleliu: Tragic Triumph: The Untold Story of the Pacific War's Forgotten Battle," Rupertus didn't show the greatest interest in the training issues his men encountered during the preparation phases, which became a terrible logistical quagmire. Despite this, Rupertus' misplaced optimism seemed unwavering. J.A. Isley, a military historian and Princeton University professor, later summarized things perfectly regarding the constant mishaps that plagued the operation from the beginning. "Thoughtful observers might well regard these unhappy incidents as harbingers of calamities yet to come" (per "Peleliu: Tragic Triumph"). 

In the end, the American forces found victory, but not without cost. The Battle of Peleliu proved to be a bloody and lamentable confrontation; according to the Marine Corps University, over 1,300 marines were killed, and 5,400 wounded.